Goodnight, June

Goodnight, June,It won't be the same without you~

Plucked For the Joy

Dried summer,
Subtly beautiful,
Slipped between leaves,
Saving pages long forgotten.
A stain abides,
Not so much a scar,
As a mark of love.
A faint blush,
A petaled blemish,
Plucked for the joy.
Saved as a memory,
Abandoned for the moment.
Rediscovered unintentionally,
Rescued for the romance,
Saved for the joy,
Treasured for the moment.

~~Bookishkind

The Muddy Place

I weep for your wound, little red breast.
You came to the muddy place,
to gather grass to build your nest.
I watched you through glass,
delighting in your efforts,
as you left and came back again.

In my absence, suddenly, without warning,
claws contained you for a brief moment.
You struggled, finally breaking free,
leaving behind a scattering of feathers & down.

When I found them later, I wept and worried for your sake.
Remembering then, that not a sparrow shall fall that heaven does not know.
Heaven and I wept for your suffering, even as I looked to the
tree where your foundation lies.

Fly away from the muddy place, it won't hold or harm you again.
Fly to fulfill your purpose and be free.
There are nests to build, babies to raise, and songs to be sung.

"All through its life there will be drama...
the drama of life and its beauty"...~~Gwen Frostic

Cotton in the Blue Sky

There is a cluster of tall cottonwood trees nearby that have been the backdrop of countless moments of reflection. For the past few days these same trees have been snowing 'cotton'. Just like John Thornton looking for roses in the Helston hedgerow, "You have to look hard" to see the cotton in the blue sky shown here. I am enjoying these wonderful June days, every bit of them.

Book Suggestions

I have five book credits with Paperback Swap.
I have been trying to find some great books to use them for, to no avail.
I would love some book suggestions so I can use them up.
If you have a great one, please let me know. Thanks!

Convinced

Johnny Depp would make a great Poe.
Convinced myself, I seek not to convince.
Edgar Allan Poe, Berenice